“He’ll bow to a subtle approach, sir,” Simon said. “But if we had to force our way in or lay siege to the castle, he’d dig in his heels, because news would quickly spread that he’d no cause to seize it. Fife’s public face is that of a law-abiding ruler. Had he been able to argue that I’d broken the law, endangered the truce . . .”
“Aye, sure,” Buccleuch agreed. “Fife’s most dangerous when he’s cornered. ’Tis better to provide him a way to leave quietly with his dignity intact.”
That they accepted Simon’s reasoning and respected his knowledge of Fife stirred an unfamiliar sense of simple pride.
Into a silence, Westruther muttered, “Our light is fast fading, my friends. We must hope Fife has not got his devil’s imps lurking in shadows to waylay enemies.”
Buccleuch chuckled, but Douglas said testily, “We’re not enemies of the man. He’s done all he can to undermine my authority, but I don’t want all-out war with him, for although he may not be the best choice to lead Scotland, he’s the strongest one available. Even so, we can be sure he’s the one behind these raids because he’s tried similar tactics in the past, and they must stop.”
“One would think he’d learn from his errors,” Buccleuch said.
“He’s no tactician, though,” Westruther said. “We also know that.”
“Aye, and that he’s a coward,” Douglas said. “We’ll rely on such traits now to discourage his mischief for a time.”
Percy said, “I don’t understand what he’d hoped to gain from such raids.”
“First,” Buccleuch said, “he wanted to make it seem that Douglas authority in the Borders had weakened, because Fife has always resented the fact that the Douglas is more powerful than any Stewart. Next, to provide himself with legal cause to seize Elishaw, he wanted to make Simon appear to be behind all the raids.”
“But such raids could lead to armies gathering,” the Englishman protested.
“Aye, sure, but Fife never sees clearly past his own goals,” Westruther said. “Some go so far as to say he hopes the two countries will become one—with himself appointed to govern the Scottish part for the English king.”
“Sakes, does he suppose Richard of England would name any Scot to such a post?” Percy demanded. “I vow, he would not.”
“We ken that fine, but Fife tends to reckon as if his opponents will do just as he imagines they will,” Buccleuch said. “He is a shrewd politician and a ruthless one, but it never seems to occur to the man that his opponent in battle might think for himself and have another outcome in mind.”
With a chuckle, Westruther said, “Perhaps we ought not to speak so freely of Fife’s failings with Murray and Percy. Percy may be an enemy again one day, and Simon may feel obliged to submit to Fife out of nobbut habit.”
Sibylla’s hand slid warmly into Simon’s.
Giving it a squeeze, he said mildly, “I’d expected someone to suggest that long since, Garth. In troth, for years I thought Fife was leading Scotland effectively and followed him all in all. But when I came to see how freely he expected to use our Scottish noblewomen and Scottish lands for his own purposes, and how easily he can dismiss assault and murder if such crimes benefit him . . .” He paused, then said, “I am loyal to the Crown, but my first loyalty is to Elishaw, to my family, and to the cause of peace if we can strengthen this truce.”
“What if we cannot?” the Douglas said.
“In that event, my lord, I am yours to command, as is Elishaw,” Simon said. “I understand that, in most ways, my parents and grandparents wanted what I want. So I accepted their neutrality, but now . . .”
Turning, he said directly to Cecil, “I hope that you, especially, will understand what I say now, cousin. Sithee, with things as they stand, and men no longer sure of who serves which side, we who lead them—on both sides of the line—must make clear where we stand and do all in our power to bring peace to the Borders.”
“We’ll never stop the reiving,” Buccleuch said.
“We won’t as long as many of us are involved in it ourselves,” Simon retorted. When Buccleuch just smiled, he shook his head at him.
Archie said, “Wat’s right, though. We won’t stop the reiving any time soon on either side, even amongst the nobles. ’Tis why I want an arrangement to address grievances across the line. We do it in some cases now with our wardens’ meetings, but we need a better system that will serve both sides fairly and efficiently.”
They fell silent then, each with his or her thoughts, until they came to the clearing. Keeping to the trees, they skirted the pond.
When Simon saw Sibylla pause opposite the memorable granite slab from which she had waded naked into the pond, he said, “Well, lass, which way?”
Sibylla saw Garth look curiously at Buccleuch and then at Simon.
Simon ignored him.
“Beyond that boulder yonder, sir,” she said, pointing. “I’m not sure I’d have recognized it if it were not as dark as it is, but another large boulder lies beyond it, and the opening beyond that.” She still was not sure she’d find the entrance, but by lining up the boulders with the tall tree at the end of the pond, she did so easily.
“We’ll need light,” Douglas said as he peered inside.
“I have a torch and a tinder box,” Simon said.
“The torch may be an encumbrance,” Sibylla said.
“The passage is narrow, and Garth will have to duck. I left candles a bit farther inside,” she added.
“Did you, indeed?” Simon said. “How many?”
“I don’t recall; three perhaps.” “I hope someone means to tell me how her ladyship kens more of this place than its lord does,” Garth muttered.
Simon explained as he found the candles and reached for his tinder box. When he admitted that Sibylla had found the tunnel after being in the castle little more than twenty-four hours, the other men had to struggle to muffle their amusement.
“You’ll have to destroy the tunnel now, lad,” Douglas said. “It won’t do to leave it, because even Fife is bound to figure out how we must have got in.”
“I ken that fine, my lord,” Simon said.
After he lighted the candles, he handed one to Sibylla and motioned for her to lead them. “Stop well before the door at the other end, lass,” he said quietly. “We’ll open it, and you will stay in the tunnel until one of us comes to fetch you.”
That, she decided, would depend on whether they found Kit in the tunnel, but she knew better than to say so to him then. His tone had said he would brook no argument, and although he seemed willing to forgive some things now, he would find it hard to forgive a wife who defied him in front of Douglas and the other lairds.
The only sounds were their feet padding softly on the hard-packed floor until her quick ears caught scuffling sounds of a presence ahead.
Raising a hand to warn Simon behind her, she paused. Softly then, she said, “Kit, it is the lady Sibylla. I’m here, love.”
A shape unfolded from the deep shadows a few yards ahead, and with a cry, the child ran into her arms. “Och, but when I heard ye coming, I thought the deevil were after me,” she exclaimed as she buried her face against Sibylla. “There be bad men inside, me lady! I’m gey glad ye came!”
“This is Colville’s lady Catherine?” Buccleuch said over Simon’s shoulder.
“Nay, then, I’m not!” Kit protested, clinging harder than ever to Sibylla.
“I promise you’re safe now, Kit,” she said. “No one here will harm you, so you can tell us the truth.”
“But I did! I’m nobbut plain Kit!”
“She is telling the truth, lass, as I’ve said all along,” Simon murmured. “Quiet her and stay with her, whilst we go in and deal with Fife.”
Sibylla nodded. Spilling wax to hold her candle, she drew Kit close.
“Does she truly think that bairn is the lady Catherine Gordon?” Douglas whispered as they emerged from the tunnel into the empty bakehouse chamber.
“Aye,” Sim
on replied. “And the Colvilles apparently thought so, too.”
Gesturing for the others to wait, he moved to the arch-way and looked into the kitchen, where servants were preparing to serve supper in the hall.
As he took in the bustle, a gillie saw him and stopped in his tracks.
Simon motioned him over. “Tell Cook and the others to keep busy but to stay out of the hall until I send someone down with other instructions,” he said.
The lad nodded fervently. “I’ll tell ’em, laird. But, sithee, sir, there be dunamany men-at-arms above.”
“All will soon be well again,” he said, hoping he spoke the truth. He hoped, too, that if anything did go amiss, Sibylla would have the sense to get Kit and herself safely out of the tunnel before battle erupted.
He told himself she would simply return to the men with Kit and explain what had happened. Then, shaking his head at what he suspected was wishful thinking, he shoved all thought of her to the back of his mind and led the way up the service stairs to the hall.
The sight of Fife in his black-velvet elegance sitting in what Simon still thought of as Sir Iagan’s two-elbow chair stirred his temper. He suppressed it, warning himself that if ever he had learned to stay cool in a crisis, this was the time to prove it.
“Ready?” he asked the others.
The Douglas nodded, his dark scowl fiercer than ever. Westruther and Buccleuch smiled grimly and nodded. As a gillie approached Fife with a jug, Simon stepped through the servants’ archway and onto the dais, saying, “Welcome, my lord. Forgive me for not being at hand to greet your arrival, but I trust my people have seen to your needs.”
Fife turned sharply, nearly knocking the jug from the pop-eyed gillie’s hand.
“Murray! Where did you spring from?”
“As you see, sir, we will not be supping alone tonight,” Simon said. “I have brought distinguished guests to sup with us. Is that my best claret in that jug, lad?”
The gillie recovered himself enough to nod and say, “Aye, laird.”
“Then fetch more mugs and pour some for each of us.
Then you may set the privy screens and leave us till I shout for you. We’ve much to discuss.”
Although Simon had rarely known Fife to lose his poise, he came close now.
“Douglas! Buccleuch! What the . . . ?”
They ignored him. Buccleuch and Westruther took seats on either side of him, while Douglas and Simon drew stools to the lower-hall side of the high table and sat to face him. Percy, following Simon, drew one up next to his.
When one of Fife’s captains stepped onto the dais, Archie said in what was more akin to a beastly growl than anything human, “Send him away, my lord.”
Fife did so with a gesture, but he had collected himself enough to say coldly, “What is the meaning of this? How dare you—!”
Simon interjected gently, “How dare I enter my hall to sup with my guest? Although I did not invite you, my lord, you are ever welcome at Elishaw. However, I fail to understand why you did not send to let me know so I might have prepared more properly for you. My lady wife will be distressed to have missed you.”
“Do not forget who I am,” Fife said to him. “Or that I control—”
“That’s enough of that,” Douglas said, unimpressed with Fife’s bluster. “Here are the plain facts, sir. You will be pleased to know that we have caught the men responsible for raids on both sides of the line and will hang them as the traitors they are for stirring strife that might have led to war with England. There is nowt in that business that need concern you. However, as two of them are the Colvilles who have pretended to seek the lady Catherine Gordon in these parts—”
“Pretended?”
“I say what I mean and dislike interruption,” the Douglas said. “But aye, pretended. To that end, they threw a local lad into the river Tweed a fortnight ago. When that did not kill him, they came here and threw him down the stairs.”
“What the devil was such a lad doing here?” Fife demanded.
“My men rescued him from the river and brought him here, sir,” Simon said. “He was exhausted, and remained sickly and weak. The Colvilles gained entrance here last night through a ruse. Believing the lad knew the lady Catherine’s whereabouts, they threatened him. When he could not help them, they killed him.”
“Surely, you cannot think I had aught to do with such a travesty.”
“Such a thought never occurred to us,” Simon said, looking into his eyes, daring him to challenge the lie. “We know how strong your principles are. We know, too, just how much value you place on human life . . . and on a person’s legal property rights.”
Douglas waited a beat before saying gruffly, “The important thing is we’ve put an end to this raiding and can now set up a way to deal with such mischief in future. I’ve made a list of my own notions, and the five of us mean to discuss them, sir. Percy here has agreed to present the result to Northumberland for his support.”
“What sort of notions?” Fife demanded.
“Bless us, sir, there be nae need to trouble you with the details,” Douglas said. “We ken fine how busy you are, but I’ll meet with you anon to discuss it when we have put more form to our thoughts. In troth, if you’d like to adjourn with me to Hermitage tonight, we can talk there.”
Fife’s eyes narrowed as he shot a glance at Cecil Percy. “I expect the five of you did not ride over this evening from Hermitage, however,” he said.
“Faith, my lord, I am a poor host,” Simon said, shaking his head. “I have neglected to present my cousin Cecil Percy of Dour Hill, England, to you. He is cousin to Northumberland and to my lady mother. We have spent much of the day with him, as he did aid us in capturing the ill-willed Colvilles. His men and the Douglas’s are camped in my woods now, awaiting instructions. When we learned that you were here, we came at once to tell you that we had caught the raiders.”
A sardonic gleam appeared in the Governor’s eyes. “It does not please me to find you in company with a Percy, Simon—let alone to have brought one, as you say, to sup with me. You must strive to do better by the ruler of your realm.”
“I will, aye, sir,” Simon said, choosing his next words with care. “Given due warning in future, I promise you Elishaw’s hospitality will be all that you expect.”
Fife’s glance flicked to Percy again and back to Simon. “Tell me, will the Percys find as warm a welcome here as I shall?”
“That must depend, sir, on the state of the truce between us. That truce is of paramount import, as you will agree. We must do all we can, together, to preserve it.”
“Answer me plainly, sir,” Fife said. “If hostilities arise again, will those at Elishaw continue to play Jack-of-Both-Sides, or nay?”
“We have likewise discussed that, my lord, all of us here. Elishaw is at heart a Scottish holding, and in such a case will stand with Douglas for Scotland.”
“With Douglas,” Fife repeated.
“Aye, and with the realm.”
“I see.”
“The truce is all-important, sir,” Simon repeated.
Fife looked at Buccleuch. “You are quiet for once.” “I’ve nowt to add,” Buccleuch said.
“So you agree with Murray?”
“He is my good-brother, my lord. I’m sworn to support him.”
“He is my good-brother as well, sir,” Westruther reminded Fife.
Having given little thought to his own friends or foes while serving Fife, Simon felt an unexpected rush of gratitude for the men who stood with him now.
Fife nodded. “Very well. I shall rely on you all to see that the Borders remain at peace. I do have one other question to ask you, Murray.”
“Aye, sir?”
“I ordered you to Huntly to seek news of my royal ward, Catherine Gordon, then most generously granted you four days’ leave to enjoy your bride. Shortly thereafter, though, I learned that you had left Edinburgh and that the lady Catherine was here at Elishaw. To be exact, that you keep her her
e as your hostage.”
“I suspect one of the Colvilles told you that, my lord,” Simon said. “The lady Catherine is not here, nor has she been here.”
“I’m told you rescued two children from the river. Will you swear to me, on your word of honor, that you did not bring a female child here a fortnight ago?”
Simon said, “The second bairn is a lass, sir. But she is of common birth and speech, and cannot be the one you seek.”
“I would know that for myself,” Fife said. “Fetch her to me.”
A flash of russet cloth in the service archway caught Simon’s eye, but as the arch was behind Fife, he knew the Governor had not seen it. He also knew who was there and hoped Sibylla had put Kit somewhere safe. The last thing he wanted to subject the already terrified child to was an inquisition by Fife.
Douglas said to Fife, “Do you know the lady Catherine personally, sir?”
“I am her guardian. Of course, I do.”
“I have heard that her hair and eyes are an unusual color, and I have seen the lass Murray rescued. Ask him what color they are, for hers are unusual, too.”
Fife looked grimly at Simon.
“Her eyes are pale blue, sir,” Simon said, reluctantly trusting Douglas to know what he was doing. “They are so light as to appear almost colorless at times.”
“So you see,” Douglas said. “She cannot be Lady Catherine. Her eyes and hair were described to me as symbolic of her fortune, both being golden.”
“This bairn has flaxen hair,” Simon said. “She must be asleep by now, too. She has been terrified, sir, has lost her brother, and so far has been unable to help us find her family. I warrant she has suffered enough without haling her from her bed.”
“As to sending Murray off to Huntly for any reason,” Douglas said without giving Fife time to reply, “it is a poor time to be sending the master of any Border stronghold so far to the north, sir. I need him here to discuss our plan for redressing grievances across the line and to deter further raids in the meantime.”
Simon said, “I would also submit, my lord, that as you’ve suspected me in Lady Catherine’s disappearance, you will prefer to send someone else to Huntly. In any event, with respect, my duty now lies here at Elishaw with my wife and family.”
Amanda Scott - [Border Trilogy 2] Page 31